


I Loved You, and I Probably Still Do

by adia90



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Moving On, Self-Discovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26596480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adia90/pseuds/adia90
Summary: Anne realises she is not worthy of Gilbert Blythe's love.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 55
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @Rozmund's 'Never Too Late', an alternate universe from the bonfire scene in 3x08. My own version if Anne had given up on Gilbert after all.

“Is this... are you saying what I’m thinking you’re saying?”

“I suppose?”

“This confession of yours, is it supposed to flatter me?”

He had the gall to blush.

Anne shook her head. “Does Winifred know you’re giving an ultimatum to another lady before agreeing to marry her?” 

“I.. I didn’t mean it that way, Anne.”

Anne nodded. “So I suppose you need an answer?”

He tried to open his mouth and the words were stuck in his throat. “You and I are mere acquaintance at best. You have never made your intentions known before and now you’re telling me this? I’ll make it easier for you, since it’s so blatantly black and white in your head. You’re courting Miss Rose, you don't need my permission to go ahead and marry her.”

Then she turned on her heels, ready to leave him. “Anne! I love you!” he begged, grappling at straws.

“But not enough to court me first, right?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. Gilbert spluttered a few unintelligible words, while Anne nodded vaguely, seemingly in understanding. “Maybe I am not worth your affections after all,” She concluded, smiling ruefully. “Have a nice life, Mr. Blythe. I wish you all the happiness in the world with Winifred.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert understood the extend of his misstep while Anne just wanted to move on.

It was a brand new day. Despite the massive disappointment that she had felt last night after the bonfire, Anne woke up with a new vigor. 

Life had to go on. 

She grabbed the buckets by the barn door and marched to Pride and Prejudice as the routine that had been established on weekends: milking the cows before breakfast. It was a methodical and mindless task, so she steered her thought to the future. 

Before they parted for the bonfire, Miss Stacy had pulled her aside to inform her of the most exciting news: she could be in the running for the Avery Scholarship to read English in Redmond College! 

It would be further away from home, but the thought of having BA attached to her name sounded so scrumptious! She was contemplative for awhile, thinking about leaving Matthew and Marilla, and her lovely Snow Queen, but last night’s incident further strengthened her resolve: everybody was moving on: prime example being her neighbor, Gilbert Blythe, and she should follow suit and leave all her childhood fancy behind. 

Diana was leaving for Paris and what was left there in Queen’s for Anne? Not having familiar faces like Ruby, Moody, Jane, Tillie even Josie, would be different, but Anne was not opposed to change. Not anymore.

“Anne?”

Startled, she almost fell backward from the stool. Gilbert Blythe standing at the barn entrance, looking less than put together. He was still in last night’s clothes sans jacket and his hair, that effortlessly rumpled curls, looked more misbehaved than usual. 

Realising her own underdressed state, Anne crossed both arms in front of her chest. “What are you doing here?” 

“I, I would like to apologise,” he stuttered. His eyes were rimmed red and swollen, almost like he was crying.

“What for?” she asked quietly, still reeling at seeing him standing in her barn. 

“For everything, Anne. For being a coward, for putting you in a spot, and for confessing my feelings in the most disrespectful way.” 

She looked down at her nails. Some were crooked and uneven, but she tried her best to keep them clean especially while milking. A debutante hand she did not possess.

She wondered how it would look like to have a ring on her finger. She shook her head, a wistful smile on her face. No use dreaming of something which was not in her hands. “You’re forgiven,” she decided softly. 

Feet shuffling and suddenly he dropped on his knees in front of her. “Do you truly mean it? Do you truly forgive me?” he asked, his bloodshot hazel eyes earnest. 

She nodded. “I do.”

He reached out to grab her hands, gripping them tightly in his. “Then can we go back to the way things were? Before I made a ruckus out of everything?” he begged.

Her heart twisted in her chest. She was really having a good start to her day, and he had to remind her that hearts could easily be broken when given too much hope. She pulled her hands away gently. “But my memory is long, Gilbert. You of all people should know that.” She nodded to the door. “I believe you are much more needed in Charlottetown, Mr. Blythe. Good day.”

* * *

“Gilbert! To what do we owe the pleasure?”

It was a week after the exam result had been announced. He was content hiding behind walls, spying on Anne's exuberance for scoring first in the whole island. She did seek him to congratulate him but to his disappointment, it didn't go any further beyond that. He understood to keep his distance. “I am here to inform you that I wouldn’t be going to Paris after all. And I would like to request for an advance in payment for our apple shipment for my college fees.”

Mr. Barry looked at him with a grim smile. “Things did not work out with Miss Rose?"

Gilbert blushed, looking ashamed. “We are more suited as friends.”

Something clicked in Mr. Barry’s head as he nodded in understanding. “Ah.” He clapped his hands once and gestured for Gilbert to take a seat in the parlor. “I did wonder too before that your affections may have lied somewhere closer to home. But when you came out with Miss Rose I thought I had it wrong.”

Gilbert’s neck felt hot. To think that his indiscretion was known throughout the village, even by the elders. “I was being a coward and misjudged a certain somebody’s feelings.”

Mr. Barry inhaled deeply, fully comprehending the young man’s predicament. “She can be quite outspoken, and enervating.” He smiled. “Not in a bad way.” He chuckled. “In fact, I just had a sit down with her. She is going to Redmond in fall. I am on the committee of Avery Scholarship for Young Women and she is going to be the first recipient from the Island. The first woman BA from Avonlea!” 

Awe filled him, remembering the delightful girl of his dreams. She was going places… all on her own. “That’s wonderful, Mr. Barry! I didn’t know you are on the Avery committee!”

Mr. Barry scratched his head, smiling sheepishly. “I have been for quite awhile. And being quite a hypocrite about it too. After your girl talked some sense into me and my wife, we have come to the conclusion that time is changing, and women have rights to choose their paths in life. Hence why Diana chose to go to Redmond too, if the final exam result permits.” 

His face lit up, happy for his childhood friend. But in a blink, he dropped his gaze, embarrassed. 

“Don’t give up, Gilbert. She is headstrong, therefore she has dignity. Make your intentions clear. For all her flowery speech, she does not hide behind veiled words,” Mr. Barry consoled. “I think it’s refreshing to have women who are decisive and clear with their requirements, makes it so much easier for us men,” he continued, laughing a little. “Now, since Paris is not happening, where are you off to for college, dear boy?”

* * *

“Just a tip, Gilbert. They are in the garden,” Mr. Barry added before they concluded their business meeting. 

Gathering his courage, he stepped quietly into Orchard Slope’s beautiful garden. He could hear the two kindred spirits conversing. 

“- therefore I’ve reached a conclusion that, although I might have captured an iota of his interest, he was not keen enough to court me,” he heard Anne saying. 

“Don’t say that, Anne. Anybody should be lucky to be courting you,” Diana coaxed as she reached over to squeeze her best friend’s hand. 

Gilbert’s heart thudded in his chest. Were they talking about him?

“I may be an excellent conversationalist, and an equal intellect-wise, but I am plain and homely looking, Di. I have no prospect, no dowry to speak of, an orphan. I do not know how to charm a man, and keep his interest. I am not beguiling, nor worthy enough to be shown off on any man’s arms, and I understand that,” Anne continued earnestly. 

He wanted to jump out from his spot behind the wall to disagree with her speech, because Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was neither plain nor homely. She was a spitfire, a dryad, enticing him both in wake and asleep. 

“It is not his fault and it is good for me to reassert my stance on tragical romance. Maybe I am destined to be the bride of adventure, after all.”

“Gilbert is just one boy, Anne. A stupid boy. If marrying a woman to secure his place to university wins over true love, then he does not deserve your affections after all.” 

“How could it be true love when all I heard of his affections was from a simple two-worded sentence?” Anne argued. “Truly, Di. I wished him all the best with Miss Rose and I am for one, quite glad that I don’t have to see them ever again.” 

Gilbert retreated further from the garden. He made the decision that he was not going to interrupt the ladies’ afternoon after all. _But thousand apologies, Anne-girl. You shall have to bear with me a little longer,_ he decided. 


	3. Chapter 3

Kingsport was a whole new experience and Anne was eager to face them head on. And to be accompanied by her bosom friend, Diana, could it be any better?

They had managed to get a comfortable lodging at one of the older neighbourhoods called Patty’s Place. The owner, who inherited the house from her uncle, was travelling to Europe and decided to rent the house to the local college girls. It was fortunate for Anne and Diana to see Priscilla Grant, who was reading Mathematics posting the ad on campus. 

Anne decided to try joining the college newspaper although it was opened only to sophomores and higher levels. She had met Alex Ferguson, the assistant editor, who had pitched her effort to the editor, the illustrious Roy Gardner. She had never met him, but she had heard of his story; a senior from old money of a logging tycoon, going against family tradition by reading Politics and Journalism. 

Alex was like Jerry with a mix of Cole in mannerism. He was a sophomore, and they met in Studies in Literature class. He immediately took her under his wing, and when he learned of her interest in journalism, he was enthusiastic to help her. 

She told him of her friend Ka’kwet’s plight and the injustices suffered by the aboriginals and people of color and to her relief, Alex shared her concern. 

“Oh, you are from Avonlea too! We have another folk from Avonlea, he is my housemate.”

Anne tried to think of her male classmates who might have been accepted to Redmond too. “Oh, do I know this person?” 

“Hello, Anne.”

Stunned, she turned to face the voice from her not so distant past. He looked much better than the last time she had seen him, but there was still a hint of apprehension on his face. 

“You know of each other?” Alex inquired. 

She cracked a smile, trying to appease Gilbert. She still had no idea what he was doing in Redmond, and honestly, she didn’t want to care. “He was my classmate back in Avonlea. And last I heard you were off to Paris with your betrothed,” she spoke pleasantly.

Alex looked surprised while Gilbert schooled his feature. There was multiple level of pain while being referred to as Anne Shirley Cuthbert’s mere classmate. 

“You were betrothed, Blythe?” Alex exclaimed.

“No, I never was. The lady and I decided we were best to be only friends,” Gilbert confirmed curtly, while looking straight at Anne. 

Anne refuses to react and acknowledged she knew any more than pertinent regarding Gilbert and his affair. 

“I thought you said there was a girl here that you’re trying to win her favour?” Alex questioned. 

Anne lifted her brow at that. “Out of one courtship and already pursuing another. You sure do move fast,” she joked. 

“Maybe the girl is you, Anne,” Alex cut in, grinning. 

Anne rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. “I don’t really know him that well, but from my scant knowledge of him, Mr. Blythe prefers his women older, blonde and worldly. I’d say I am the exact opposite of his _palate_.” She stood up slowly from her place behind the table. “As much as I’d like to continue the stimulating conversation, I need to return to Patty’s to be in time for dinner. Should we work more on this article tomorrow, Alex?” 

“Actually, Anne. I decided to concentrate on the sports section and can barely make time for others. My man Gilbert here shares your passion for politics. I think you two would work well together.”

She swallowed her pride and nodded. She looked at Gilbert. “Sure. Shall we meet at the library tomorrow during lunch hour, Mr. Blythe?”

She was so sure the bonfire would be the last she would see of him, and she was perfectly content if those were the final words she would ever say to him. 

Alas, it was not the case, and she just had to bear with it.

* * *

“Hello, Anne.”

She looked up at the man, who was blocking her light. “Hello,” she replied, nodding curtly.

“May I sit here?”

“It’s a public library, Mr. Blythe.”

He took his seat, trying to inconspicuously pull the chair closer to hers. He noticed her stance growing rigid. “Sorry I ran a little late. I went to get some snack for you.”

She snapped her head up to look at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I do, too.” His eyes strayed quickly down her frame. “You’re looking thinner, Anne.”

She felt a surge of annoyance at him for blatantly pointing out her more than abundant flaw. “Not all of us were born curvy and beautiful, Mr. Blythe,” she spoke monotonously. 

“Anne! I mean -.” He was cut off by Anne. “Let’s get back to the article, shall we? Then you won’t be inundated with my skinny presence much longer.”

Impatient, he grabbed her hand from the book and pulled it in between his. “You are always putting words in my mouth!” 

“Are they not wrong?” she asked, arching her eyebrow. 

“Too wrong,” he confirmed. He looked deeply into her eyes. “At the risk of sounding licentious, you have the perfect figure and posture, Anne. But I notice your cheeks hollowing,” he spoke gently, before reaching a hand to rub gently on the apple of her cheek. “And these dainty wrists? Definitely getting daintier,” he continues, circling her wrist with his warm fingers.

Heat crept on her cheeks at his audacity. 

“What are you doing, Mr. Blythe? You are being very forward,” she noted calmly, although her heart was galloping in her chest. 

“Will you stop calling me Mr. Blythe? You’ve eaten at my dinner table and you’ve seen me in my night shirt, you are more than familiar with me!” 

Anne blushed. “That was in the past, and please do not mention that in public. I imagine it is scandalous how you insinuate that I am more than familiar with you than what is polite.”

“Because it is true! I have held your body against mine twice, and I’ve never hugged another woman before.”

“Gilbert Blythe, shut your trap!” she hissed.

He whispered back, just as harshly. “Make me, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert!”

She stared at him in disbelief, never was he so insolent before. His eyes narrowed, the veins on his neck visible. Her own anger simmered down. “Why are you doing this?” She asked softly. 

“Because I want to atone myself. Because I was a prick for being impertinent. But most importantly, because I love you and I will fight for you.”

She raised an eyebrow, skeptic. “What do you know about love? You claim to love me while courting another woman. That is the most twisted definition of love ever.”

“Anne -.”

“Stop trying to take advantage of our working together to justify your case. I don’t appreciate it. You think I would simper just because you insinuated that you fancy me when never showing any proof for it before. Look, Mr. Blythe, for all your looks and your intellect, not all women appreciate being given secondhand affections like what you are doing, because I definitely deserve better!”

“I thought you didn’t care!”

“Had it ever occurred to you to ask? You asked Ms. Rose just fine, didn’t you? Guess I was not worthy enough of a question.”

He exhaled, dropping his gaze. “It’s the other way around, Anne. I felt unworthy of you.”

Anne snorted. “Pretty words but I don’t incline to believe you. All these times you further proof that you were not thinking of me nor Ms. Rose, you were only thinking of yourself.”

“I am ashamed of my cavalier actions towards the both of you, but my feelings for you is true, Anne. I will fight for your affections. I shall correct your assumptions that you don't own my whole heart. Anne, you are all I think about, day and night.”

Realisation dawned on her. “You listened to my private conversation with Diana,” she breathed. 

He held her eyes and nodded grimly. “I did and I am not sorry.”

“You should be. Because no matter how much I might have felt for you, fact remained you didn’t feel enough to ask me yourself and moved on to the next woman. I am merely copying what you did, by moving on from you. You should do the same and leave me alone,” she spoke, assertive. 

He pulled back slightly, but his hand lingering on hers. “I apologise but I am unable to fulfil your wish, Anne, because my take from your speech is you did have feelings for me. I shall respect your boundaries but I will continue to endeavour to earn your hand. I learned that being a coward had cost me the most important person in my life.”

“Although it is almost intriguing to talk about this particular person, I must urge us to go back to the heart of the issue, the mistreatment of the local aborigines,” she replied, trying to hold her gaze. 

He gazed at her for a few seconds, before smiling gently. “You are right.” He gently laid her hand back on her lap. “Let’s start with the Indian Act, 1876. I’ve read some of it, and you’d be rightfully appalled.”

He could feel her excitement grow but she tampered it down. The old Anne would be restless and demand him to tell her straight away. _Give it time, Gil,_ he told himself. 


	4. Chapter 4

The clock struck four times and Anne stood up to collect her stationeries and shoving them into her satchel. 

“Can I walk you home, Anne?”

Gilbert saw her biting her bottom lip, and immediately he knew he was pushing it too far within a day. 

“I’d rather not. I don’t want to be involved in any malicious gossip or anything of that matter.”

“What does it mean?”

“You were recently involved with another woman, Mr. Blythe, and it is highly improper for you to be walking alone with another.”

“Winnie and I broke up about about three months ago, Anne. It was quite awhile ago.”

“Be it as it may, I am already only partially tolerated because of my orphaned status, and I don’t want to add scandalous to my name to be accompanying a man who recently had gotten out of engagement. Imagine the talk about me. They would never talk about you.” 

Speechless, Gilbert stared as she hastily fastened her hat. She turned to leave before pausing, looking deep in thought. 

“I feel rude for even thinking this. Can I not have you around too often, Mr. Blythe? I will tolerate you in front of others, but I am quite adamant in putting a stop in this facade of a friendship. Please do not request to accompany me anywhere because I would feel bad for saying no, and I don’t want to feel bad anymore. For as I said, my memory is long, and the sight of you still brings pain to my heart,” she spoke softly while looking out the window of the library, averting her gaze from Gilbert’s face. 

“Now, if you could excuse me.” 

And he was left in the coldness of the empty library, wondering if he could ever be in her life again. 

* * *

“You did not mention that you had a meet up with Gilbert Blythe!” 

“Hello to you too, dearest Diana,” Anne greeted sarcastically. She placed her books on the study table before dropping herself ceremoniously on her bed. “It was for Redmond Reviews. We are working on an article,” she muttered, closing her eyes, trying to stave off an incoming headache. 

Diana grimaced. She knew how much it broke her best friend’s heart when a certain debutante made an appearance in Avonlea, and the already-fragile heart was fully shattered when she had received a less-than-ideal confession from the man that held her affections. 

“Oh, I imagine it must be hard for you, dearest,” Diana cooed, sitting softly on the bed next to Anne. She patted her friend’s head gently. “Why is he not in Paris I wonder.”

Anne sighed. “I have no idea, nor do I care to find out. Apparently, he and Miss Rose are not engaged.”

Diana gasped. “They are not?”

Anne kept mum and turned on her side, exposing her rumpled hair. “Could you please help me with my hairpin, dearest? I’m drained,” Anne mumbled, tucking her hands under her cheek. 

Diana obliged, feeling sorry for her friend. She knew the facade Anne wore to mask her heartbreak, and they both thought that with time, it would heal her bleeding heart. It was providential that they were accepted to a college far away from their island, hoping to put miles between her and the story of her tragical romance. 

But then, Anne had come back from a meeting with Alex and she had lamented about running into a ghost from the past. 

“Can you maybe sit this article out? You can write about other things by yourself, can’t you?” Diana suggested, pulling pin by pin patiently as not to hurt Anne. 

“It is imperative I work on the plight of the indigenous people, Di. And I might as well tough it out, I am going to be dealing with Gilbert Blythe sooner or later since we are, for all intents and purposes, still neighbors,” Anne spoke listlessly. 

“I admire your tenacity, Anne. With time, your heart will be healed. Providence will grant you somebody better to love and cherish. I myself can’t wait for it to happen, you are one of the easiest persons to love, my kindred spirit,” Diana said as she massaged Anne’s scalp soothingly. 

Anne turned to face her best friend. “I don’t deserve you, Diana. You are the kindest person I know. But I think this is my fate? I have you, I have the Cuthberts, and I think that’s more than enough of worldly affections I could ask for.”

Diana’s heart went out for Anne. The one person who had managed to convince her father the endless possibilities for a young woman such as herself, refused to believe that she was worthy of the many realms of love. “You will always have me, dearest.”

“I know, Di. And you are enough for me.” 

* * *

“It was Anne.”

Gilbert sighed as he hung his newsboy cap behind the door. “You are very astute.”

“Well, you left for the meeting looking so hopeful and came back dismayed, what do you expect me to think?” Alex remarked. 

Gilbert was silent as he slowly removed his outer jacket. 

“Are you alright?”

He contemplated his answer. “I’ve been better.”

Alex watched as his younger roommate settled himself on the bed, looking morose. “I don’t understand. Anne said you were engaged.”

“I was not. But I was technically courting another lady.”

“How do you explain ‘technically’, Blythe?”

Gilbert ended up telling the details of his failed attempt at confession to Alex. Alex shook his head. “You realise no woman likes to be the second choice, don’t you?”

“But she’s not!”

“But Anne does not see it that way. She was right, you did not even attempt to court her. Tell me one nice thing you did for her out of the courtesy of your own heart, not because you were told to.” 

Gilbert tried to come up with something, and realised belatedly, how inadequate his display of affections for Anne was for her to acknowledge his feelings for her. 

“Did you try walking her home? Do you know when her birthday is? Do you even know her parents? Have you even tried talking about that with her?”

He shook his head, appalled at his ignorance. There he was, offended that Anne might not return his feelings when he had never made an attempt to woo her and know more about her. 

“I’ve known her a little close to two weeks, but I already know she is a Scot, they were both teachers, and she was in Bolingbroke close to eleven years. Did you know all of these details before?” 

Again, he shook his head, feeling the heat creeping up his neck. How could he claim to love her when he didn’t even know some of the basic details of her life? Why would she open up to him when he didn’t even make an effort to learn more about her?

And he reminisced on all the things she had done for his family. How she had quickly come to his rescue when Mary was in labor. When Mary fell sick, she had stepped in to get the chores around the house done, while trying to keep an eye on Bash and Dellie. She had comforted him when they eventually lost Mary, and he could still remember the warmth of her hug. How he had depended emotionally on her on the subsequent days, always looking to sit next to her in church because her presence had comforted him. 

But what had he done for her in return? A half-arsed attempt at confession while still courting another woman?

He did not deserve her. 

He felt the dam broke and he grasped his head with one hand, another covering his eyes with tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“Fuck,” Alex muttered. “I’m sorry, Blythe. I didn’t mean to be harsh.”

“No, I deserved it. She did all these wonderful things for me and my family, and I was offended because she had told me once that she did not need me. It is true, she did not need my help. She was and is capable for fending for myself. But I’ve been needing her all of last year and I failed to acknowledge that.”

Alex was silent for awhile, as he had no words of comfort to offer. Tentatively, he patted his friend on the back, trying to console the poor fella. “All is not lost, Blythe.”

“I don’t know, Ferguson. I am not exactly her favorite person right now,” Gilbert muttered, rubbing his tears away. He could not be bothered to feel mortified for crying in front of Alex. 

“She may not like you much now, Blythe, but that is better than indifference. She has strong emotions for you, hence her reaction. It is up to you to change it to your favor.” 

“I am trying, but I do not want to stifle her too. After all that has happened, I don’t deserve another chance with her.”

“You may not, but you can work on deserving her,” Alex advised. He cringed slightly, remembering the talks he had overheard regarding his favorite mentee. “But you may want to work hard on it. A few boys are sniffing after her something bad.”

Gilbert groaned. It was one thing to see her dancing with Charlie back during the village carnival, but to witness men after eligible men lining up waiting to be her suitor? His worst nightmare was coming true. “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed, looking at Alex helplessly.

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. “Boy, you have got much to learn.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno, man. In the feels and I'm sorry. Things will look up, I think?

The coming week was proving to be easier on her heart. Maybe because she had finally purged of all her dejection to the unlucky fellow, Gilbert. A twinge of regret hit her sometimes, when she saw how cautious he was around her. She didn’t want him to act differently than he was before to her, before all the tragedy that had happened between them. 

She simply wanted to forget and move on. 

And she was nowhere closer to helping Ka’kwet and her family. 

Monday following the incident in the library, she found a bouquet of wild flowers on the front stoop of Patty’s Place with her name on a card. The cursive was familiar. Picking up the beautiful bunch, she heaved out a sigh. 

She brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled the fragrant smell, and immediately she was reminded of the wildflowers that grew between Green Gables and the Blythe-Lacroix farm. She was tempted to pluck one of the asters and placed it on her hair, but she didn’t want to encourage the sender. Instead, she gently placed them in a vast before putting it in the parlour for everyone’s enjoyment. 

On Tuesday, right after her lecture ended, she had visited the library to scour anything on the Indian Act mentioned by Gilbert. She found that in 1894, there was an amendment making school compulsory for indigenous children aged 7 to 16. Anne thought it was peculiar, as even the whites were not obligated by law to send their children to school. She remembered Cole and Billy, who dropped out a year before the Queens exam, and no legal actions were taken against their parents. 

As she pondered the cause of existence of such clause, she was shaken out of her stupor by the person rounding the corner of the book rack. Hair deliciously rumpled and sleeves rolled up, Gilbert was visibly surprised to see her sitting on the floor, back leaned against the wall in between the racks. 

“Apologies,” he spoke, looking at her cautiously. “I will make myself scarce.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Blythe. I am sorry you caught me being very unladylike, legs and skirt askew,” she replied, tucking her legs under her to give room for Gilbert to come into the row. 

“There is nothing wrong for pursuing comfort, Anne,” he replied, stealthily admiring her form, her fiery hair in a single braid over her shoulder. Most ladies favoured the updo trend, which Gilbert admitted suited Anne splendidly, but he missed seeing her in her signature braid, and he felt it was Providence that he was blessed with the view today. 

She nodded curtly. “I agree.” She looked up at him, and he stared back at her, his heart pounding. “Thank you for the flowers,” she acknowledged. Although she had less than favourable feelings for the sender, she was not ungracious. “They were beautiful,” she added. 

“I’m glad you liked them.” He rubbed his neck, feeling nervous, as if he had overstepped a boundary. “I shall take my leave then.”

She closed the book she was perusing. “You don’t have to. If you are looking for something from this aisle, don’t let me stop you.”

“If you think I’m not imposing.”

“Mr. Blythe, this is a public place. I won’t wilt and die every time I run into you. Quit worrying.”

He was silent, before shaking his head, chuckling. “You are formidable, Miss Cuthbert. I doubt you are anything less than.”

She felt the gentle heat on her cheeks, before nodding and looking down at her book. 

He was perusing the shelf for more than awhile, looking slightly frustrated. 

“Are you looking for this book?” She called out, holding up the book she was reading knowingly. 

Gilbert peered at the thick book in her hand and nodded sheepishly. The publication by Department of Indian Affairs, Consolidation of Indian Act, 1876 was an abhorrent the first time he read it, and honestly, to stomach it a second time around, he had to think of the better outcome of their assignment. 

“I am getting nauseous reading this literature,” she confessed, laying the tomb on the floor. Gilbert took it as an invitation to slide down and sit by her side against the wall. “Who gave them the rights to determine and judge the way other people live. Where do they get off thinking they are a superior race and are able to dictate what other people are meant to do?” 

Gilbert shook his head grimly. He browsed through the book to a particular quote that he found most sanctimonious. “I did not come into realisation how thoroughly skewed most of our population’s perception to other races until my travels south. I saw first hand how the people of color are treated horribly at the hands of colonists, who came to ravage and steal the resources of the first people there. You are right, Anne, who are we to think that we are a better race compared to them? We are after all grandchildren of immigrants, and we treat the first people as if they are the ones invading our lands, and not the other way around.” 

“I can’t imagine the things that you’ve seen in your travels, Mr. Blythe,” Anne spoke softly. She had a faraway look on her face, totally transfixed on a thought. “Your kinship with Bash was serendipitous. In a way, it strengthens your pre-existing humility and that is the most admiring trait of yours,” she continued, a small smile on her face. 

“And the way you took him in without any hesitation, Anne. You are a kindred spirit to all, and that is one of your most beautiful traits, among others,” he counter praised, offering her his own gentle smile. 

The blush on her cheeks were very becoming and Gilbert wondered he didn’t shower her with more compliments before.

No wonder she was not aware of his feelings before. He was never verbal about it, thinking back, why should he expect her to read his mind?

She looked away and sighed. “I should have been able to do something for Ka’kwet.”

“You should have come to me, Anne. I could have helped.”

She looked at him dubiously in good humour. “You were busy with your internship and courting a debutante, Mr. Blythe. I doubt you noticed much else,” she replied, chuckling. 

He sat up, facing her in order to look at her earnestly. She did not realise her importance in his life and that was something he needed to remedy. “Anne, I’d come running if you would just ask,” he said, trying his best to convey the depth of his feelings without scaring her. 

Chuckling, Anne rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. “Right,” she said, a small smile on her face. 

Gilbert’s heart fell in dismay. She truly did not know. How could she not know?

She closed the thick book before handing it to him. “I have to make it home before the I get caught in the rain,” she announced, looking outside the window at the gloomy sky. Gilbert stood up quickly and offered a helping hand. She hesitated for a second before taking it gratefully. 

He wanted to walk her home. He opened his mouth to ask, before seeing her shaking her head at him with a sad smile. 

“I’ll write my half of the article, in reference to the structure that we agreed upon. I have done my research on the indigenous tribes in the Maritimes and I think it shall be a great introduction to the article. I will have my draft for you to oversee by Monday, Mr. Blythe,” Anne said as she packed her satchel. She gave him another small smile, as a peace offering. “I’ll see you next week then.”

* * *

Anne felt her heart lifted. The conversation that she had in the library with Gilbert was slowly turning back into their old comfortable camaraderie. It was true, she was brokenhearted, but she was ready to take it as another life lesson to carry her forward. The more that she had thought about it, the more she knew they were not suited. 

She was always jumping to conclusions, while Gilbert was always even tempered. No wonder he took a liking to the calm and collected Miss Rose. 

She was always finding her self in hot water, the most recent example being the spectacle with Josie and Billy. She imagined she would bring much embarrassment to Gilbert if they were courting. No wonder he had chosen to court a sensible woman like Miss Rose. 

And she was a plain, orphaned Anne. With freckles and bright, peculiar hair. Who was she to compare herself to such an Aphrodite like Miss Rose?

Lightning struck and it lit up the sky, and Anne jumped back, startled out of her commiseration. And it just poured, heavily, the rain splashing her skirt, and she stepped back into the foyer to escape the weather.

And ran straight into a solid, tall mass. 

“Oh, my apologies,” she exclaimed, grateful for the pair of hands that shot out to balance her on her feet. 

The chuckle was deep and melodious to her ears. “I was the one not paying attention.”

Her eyes traveled up the well-clothed sturdy chest, the expensive tailoring was obvious, the long neck, the Adam’s apple bobbing with mirth at her, and the stubbly jaw, pink lips, before her eyes landing on a pair of expressive blue eyes. 

“Hello there,” the eyes greeted her, twinkling. “I’m Roy Gardner. It’s a pleasure running into you.” 

* * *

It was like watching a train wreck: the moment he knew she had fallen, hook, line and sinker. 

His heart fell to his feet, as the papers which were previously in his clutch, scattered around him, mirroring the fragments of his heart. 

The giggle and the smile almost killed him. “I’m Anne Shirley Cuthbert. Pleasure running into you too.” 

If he could just talk to her. 

He had no problem telling her his dreams of becoming a doctor. 

He remembered the day she had hugged him after his rants about failing Mary. 

The blasted dance practice. 

Why didn’t he go after her? If she was truly an important person to him, why didn’t he go after her? Why did he hold on to his ego?

Was that how she felt when she saw him with Winnie at the fair? This painful feeling, like a fist closing around his heart? 

He gasped, feeling breathless, as the pain crept deeper into his chest. How could he remedy this? Why couldn’t she give him another chance? 

“Anne,” he croaked, reaching out, only to realise she had stepped off into the rain under an umbrella, the man’s arm around her shoulder. 


	6. Chapter 6

Anne never knew that flirting could be fun. 

She grinned at the thought of the handsome Mr. Gardner. It has been a week since their first fateful encounter and he had walked her home three times. Each time proved to be more indulgent, as they exchanged details about their lives as to be more familiar with the other. 

When she had first told him that she was an orphan with a pair of siblings as her adoptive parents, she eyed him surreptitiously to gain his reaction. He had looked solemn but was not disgusted. When she had told him she had lived the first decade of her life in service, he had looked disheartened for her, and she felt a spark in her heart, somewhat similar to that time during a particular dance practice back in Avonlea. 

She was in a conundrum. 

Here was an eligible gentleman, showering her with compliments and attention, and lending her his ear as a sounding board. But she could still feel the invisible pull to that abhorrent boy, or the boy who was supposed to be abhorrent, for thinking her affections was something he owned rather than earning it. 

She looked up, and Gilbert Blythe’s chin was still just as splendid. 

It was unfair for her to accuse him for being abhorrent, didn’t he try to get her attention with dragon slaying and apple gifting? _That was aeons ago_ , an inner voice screeched. But he was always helpful and kind. _That was in his nature, wasn’t it, and you barely had any special treatment from him._ Therefore, how dare he assumed for her to know of his supposed affections for her?

They were on their way back from the damned residential school. They were not allowed entry to interview the principal even under the official capacity of the college newspaper. The only consolation to both Anne and Gilbert was that they had heard from Miss Stacy that Ka’kwet had managed to escape the school last summer. 

“I can’t imagine the torture she had to go through. The rest of the kids have to go through. I would never wish that kind of life to anybody. Not even on Billy Andrews,” she lamented, more to herself, not really expecting a reply from Gilbert. 

“I apologise for being mostly ignorant about your life before Avonlea, Anne,” he spoke gently as they walked side by side to the coach stand. 

“You don’t have to. Not many people knew about it.”

He chuckled ruefully. “Guess I was not special enough.”

“You never asked,” she replied curtly. And his face fell, yet trapped in another blunder of his own making.

“I didn’t mean to make it about me,” he mumbled, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets. 

She took pity on him. “It wasn’t pleasant. I try not to remember that time.”

“Your outing with Cole. It was to the orphanage, wasn’t it?”

She looked at him, surprised to hear him remembering. 

“It was the day I thought you didn’t care for me and asked Miss Rose to tea,” he continued, in a manner of explaining. 

What was there to say to that?

“I should convey my intentions, rather than assuming. I had nothing to lose. I was prideful, and my bruised ego was soothed by her interest.”

She decided she didn’t want to know about Miss Rose’s interest and kept quiet. 

In the coach back to their university, Anne regretted her cold shoulder treatment toward Gilbert. He had been looking dejected lately, and Ruby was right, he was still blastedly handsome despite his lack of cheer. She wondered, what was making him sorrowful.

She should try being a friend. Afterall, they were once quite a team, weren’t they? 

“Mr. Blythe, are you feeling alright?” she inquired softly. 

The saddest pair of hazel eyes looked up to her, and it felt like a butter knife being poked into her chest. Dull, prolonged pain.

“Will you ever revert back to calling me Gilbert, Anne?” he asked, his voice even sadder than his face. 

Anne floundered. She didn’t know why he had to do that, always going back to the non-issue of non-them. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, not knowing what she was sorry for. “I just can’t help noticing you lack your usual optimism,” she added hesitatingly. 

He gave her a sad, beautiful smile. “Very discerning of you.”

“How can I help?” she asked instead. 

He looked at her with his intense gaze. She felt it to her toes. “I don’t know how to ask without burdening you even more,” he admitted. 

That shut her up. 

“I know I have no right to ask, therefore I’d be much obliged if you could bear with my disposition for a little bit longer, Anne-girl,” he added. 

“I’m sorry,” she blurted again. 

“Are you courting Roy Gardner?” he asked, his face earnest. 

She blushed. His audacity! 

“I just want you to be happy, Anne. Even if it’s not with me,” he continued softly, looking down at his hands. 

Guilt gnawed at her. “I wonder if you would be better off in Paris, Mr. Blythe,” she whispered, looking outside at the busy streets of Kingsport. 

She heard him but pretended that she didn’t. “I will always want to be by your side, even if you don’t want me to.”

* * *

“I’ve never been interested in younger girls before.”

Anne grinned cheekily at her companion. “Oh, you’re interested in a younger girl now?”

The man chuckled, leaning closer to her as he whispered low in her ear. “I’m interested in you.”

No matter how much she tried to maintain air of aloofness, heat crept up her cheeks. “You offend me, Sir. I am no girl,” she replied demurely. 

“My apologies, Miss Cuthbert. You are the most upstanding lady and it was my error,” he teased, loving her shy smile. “But I could tell, you have a certain apprehension,” he continued wisely. 

“You are very astute, Mr. Gardner,” she murmured. 

He decided not to lie. “Alex warned me about being involved with you. Something about breaking more than one heart.”

Anne paused in her walk. “I am not a heartbreaker, Roy. How could I be? Look at me,” she said, her defenses rising. 

Roy placed his hands on her shoulders so they would face each other. “Yes, look at you. Utterly gorgeous, glorious hair, dreamy eyes, svelte figure, but the best part of your physical attributes, Anne? They are just dressings to your brilliant mind. You, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, is the most dangerous of a heartbreaker, even if you don’t realise it.” 

She gasped. 

Her companion nodded curtly. “My apologies. I thought you’d appreciate my honesty.”

She tried to speak. “No, no,” she stammered. “I am not angry at you.”

He smiled serenely. “I don’t think you would be.”

“I’ve never had a man expressed their interest so lucidly,” she mumbled, avoiding the gentleman’s gaze. Then she laughed. “Oh, how could I forget? I once had a classmate pinned ‘Anne Sloane’ on our school’s take notice board. It doesn’t get any clearer than that, does it?”

Roy laughed, his hands sliding down her arms, discreetly pulling her closer. They were standing outside of Patty’s Place, underneath the maple oak tree, her fiery hair blending with the autumn hue of the leaves. “Already insinuating marriage, Miss Cuthbert?” he teased her again, delighting in the deeper shade of blush on her cheeks. 

“Stop teasing me!” she cried, trying to hide her burning cheeks from his scrutiny. 

“Never!” he replied vehemently.

She rolled her eyes playfully, relishing the feeling of his touch. 

The cerulean pair of eyes turned a notch serious. “I know your heart is troubled, Anne.”

“He is family… and in my life constantly. I have to admit, my heart tugs for him still,” she confessed, looking down at her shoes. “I am afraid if I made a rash decision, it will impact all of our lives in the future, and not for the better.”

“I understand, Miss Cuthbert. But while you decide, I do not mind being a distraction,” Roy spoke gently.

“You’d end up hating me. ‘A fickle and changeful thing is a woman ever’,” she accused. 

“How could anyone hate you, Anne Shirley? If at all, you would leave me with beautiful memories of courting you, and if I may be so bold, would include the memories of your kisses.” 

“Are you insinuating that you would like to kiss me?” she asked, almost afraid. She had never been kissed, not by a potential suitor. And she had not imagined it would be anyone other than… 

_No, no, Anne. Here in front of you is a legitimate goodhearted gentleman, why do you think of ‘him’ still?_

“I don’t insinuate, Miss. I desire to,” he reaffirmed, his gaze strong. “If you allow me to.” 

The intent reflected in his eyes eased the turmoil in her heart. Here was a man who saw her clearly. Here was a man to whom she was not an afterthought. With a deep breath, Anne decided to be brave. 

“You have my permission, Sir.” 

* * *

That Friday, the final day before the draft submission for their article, he looked significantly worse. There were bags under his eyes, and those curls, they were beyond control. 

“I saw you with Gardner.”

Anne stopped her writing. 

“Do you hate me that much?”

She looked at him, cautious. “I didn’t do it to be malicious. I did it because we both deserve to move on.”

He looked like he was about to cry. “What if I don’t want to?”

She reached out a hand and squeezed his gently. “You only said that because you have been single-focused on me out of guilt. I get that you’re repentant, but I forgive you. You deserve to be with somebody.”

Tears were pooling in his eyes. Anne felt regret, why must she hurt this man so? “I was a coward and took the easy way out,” he sniffed. 

“You were not. You asked the most beautiful debutante to tea, all by yourself. I bet it took a lot of courage and effort.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t think it over and blurted it out.”

“You must have been so enamoured with her then.”

“I just wanted to soothe my bruised ego.”

“Be it as it may, she was wonderful, wasn’t she. Your bruised ego almost led to marriage. It was not all a lost cause,” she reasoned. 

“I was not even thinking about it until her father brought it up!” he protested. 

She was quiet. “I must say, Mr. Blythe. I am quite disappointed about how cavalier you handled Miss Rose’s heart.” And she continued, her voice low. “And mine.”

“I know. I am eternally sorry,” he whispered, placing the other hand on top of hers, creating a tower of hands and fingers. He kept imagining his mother’s ring adorning her elegant digit. Will it ever come to fruition? “Do you love him?”

She hesitated. “I can learn to.”

He pursed his lips, avoiding tears. “Was your first kiss everything that you ever dreamt of?”

She looked away. “It was pleasant.”

He nodded. Her hand warm in between his. “Selfishly, I wanted it to be with me.”

She chuckled softly. “You can’t go around demanding all first kisses to be yours.”

“I never kissed Winifred. Or anybody else.”

She looked at him grimly, not too sure how to respond. A final squeeze, and she made to pull her hand. “I best make my move. Goodbye, Mr. Blythe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening to Exile on repeat does things to you. But I promise a HEA and I shall deliver.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated sporadically, so I can't promise a fixed update schedule. The story will be about 10 chapters-ish. Angst, slow burn, but will a happy ending. Sorta. Hahha. Okay, I promise. Thank you for reading!


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